In Harm's Way
by gainesm
Summary: In this epic continuation to "Accidental Tourist", we find the pursuit of Jack the Ripper's scalpel changing, forever, the lives of all our agents. *Episode 3 in "The New Beginnings" storyline* co-written with Sarah Murdoch-Smith.
1. Prologue

In Harm's Way

Prologue

Nikola Tesla stood back from the table to stretch. His lean form seemed leaner in his custom tailored three-piece suit, and he removed his jacket – carefully folding it and placing it on the table behind him, before pressing his hands to the small of his back. It ached from the many hours he had spent stooped over the numerous documents and maps laid out before him. Across from him his lifelong friend, Helena Wells, remained enraptured by a series of pages from an ancient text. She, like he, had not moved for hours. The two had spent days locked in much-loved research and he could feel every minute of it in his small frame. He twisted himself until a joint gave way, smiling at the sound of the satisfying crack. "Good God, Nikola, what was that?" Helena looked up at him as he straightened his vest.

"L-3 if I'm not mistaken," he answered jovially and stretched his neck to the left and right before grinning at her. She rolled her eyes in response, but also took the time to stretch her muscles before they both went back to their work in mutual silence. Less than ten minutes later something caught Tesla's eye and he hunched in closer to a map he had yet to scrutinize. He quickly picked up a book and flipped to a page with a copy of a lithograph. He looked from the photograph to the map more than once and then excitedly whispered, "Eureka."

Helena looked up with interest. "Did you really find it?" She studied his face with curiosity.

"You know how it pains me to admit it, but you were right all along." The excitement in his voice matched his boyish exuberance, but was absent all the showmanship he often displayed, and she knew he had finally found something of real merit. "Come, take a look." She stood and began walking toward him, but hesitated at the sound of her cell phone. Helena looked to her right. The insistent vibration echoed into the room as the phone danced across the tabletop – its screen lit up in quiet demand to be answered. "I'm sorry," Tesla's jesting voice intercepted her hand before she could pick it up. "Keeping you from someone, am I?" She looked up to see the ever-present smirk on his face. It was a visual challenge she knew all too well.

Helena quirked her eyebrow at him before pressing the power switch on the phone, ignoring the sad reluctant chimes of its shutdown sequence. "Hush," she commanded him. "Of course not." She tucked the phone into her pocket deciding whoever had called – they would just have to wait until she was free.

"I always knew I was the real love of your life," he mocked. She narrowed her eyes at him and they both laughed. It was a quiet reminder of the friendship they had forged in a time few could say they knew as well as they. Indeed, it had been many years since she felt as alive as she did in this moment – as if no time at all had passed in the world. But, in fact, a great many years had passed. In some ways it was a difficult thing to remember how anachronistic the three of them really were, she moreso than the other two for having been only newly reintroduced to the world at large. Looking around at the well-manicured villa her friend Helen Magnus had appropriated for their time in Italy, she smiled. It was closer to her own time than the present, but it was modern enough to provide all the comforts she could have wanted.

The grandeur of their temporary home reminded her of the many memories the three friends had collected together over the years. It was, in many ways, a perfect example of her friend's exquisite taste. _Some things will never change_, she thought as she gazed upon the expertly frescoed walls and beautifully tiled floors. It was good to be on holiday, good to be amongst friends, and it was good to immerse herself in a timeless mystery with them. Long ago the trio had been inseparable, and she wanted nothing to get in the way of rekindling the cherished camaraderie after all their years apart. That they could spend the time researching an old pursuit they had once shared made it that much better.

They worked into the wee hours of the morning, as they had the previous nights, and Helena was happily exhausted when she finally laid her head on her pillow. It did not take her long to fall fitfully asleep. Morning came quickly and she roused herself for another day of research as quickly as she could. Once more they lost themselves in the work and before she knew it, it was midday. Just before lunch Helena picked up the voicemail and ruefully listened to the sound of her lover's voice. She wished she had picked up the phone when it rang. But she could not help but smile as she listened; hearing the way Myka Bering fumbled through messages always amused her, and she took mental note of the less than pleased tone in Myka's voice. She lamented about having declined the invitation to Naples, but was trying to make the best of the routine case she had been given. She and her young protégé, Claudia Donovan, were headed to Seattle in the morning. The Pacific Northwest was beautiful in its own right, but it was not Naples, and Helena felt she understood the slight complaining whine Myka tried to hide.

Helena glanced at her watch quickly working out the time conversion. The two agents were already on the plane. She pressed a speed-dial button and when the call connected, she left a message suggesting they try to reach each other after the plane landed. But, it was hours later before Helena remembered the tentative appointment. When she finally thought to check her phone her heart fell. Five missed calls.

She set her thumb above the green button to dial the last caller when a familiar voice called out. "Tea?" She watched as Magnus strode into the room carrying a tray. Helena could not help but appreciate the visage of the well-groomed doctor who walked briskly in her immaculate skirt suit - her fashionable heels clicking softly against the porcelain floor as she deftly maneuvered through the debris-field the two researchers had left around the shared tables. "I thought the two of you might want a break."

Helena brightened. "Magnus," she said as she absent-mindedly slipped the phone into her pocket – the call to Myka temporarily forgotten. "You absolutely spoil me."

Tesla did not miss a beat. "No milk nor sugar, Irene." It was his age-old nickname for her. A reminder of a shared past bound in a history few would ever know. She glanced at him, but he never looked up; instead he buried himself in a text as his voice trailed off leaving her to manage for them both.

Helena tilted her head as she turned to Magnus finding herself facing a matching tilt. But etched across Magnus' deceptively youthful expression was a mock look of shocked disbelief. "Tesla trusting you to make his tea? Good heavens, Wells, what have the two of you been up to in here?"

The three friends enjoyed their small break to catch each other up on where their research was leading, and were soon back to work. Later that evening when they stopped for another cup of tea, Helena reached for the phone in her back pocket. She had missed Myka too many times, and she really wanted to hear her voice. She dialed her voicemail and listened to her messages as she prepared her cup of tea. She smiled as she listened to the first messages, all from Myka. Her absent love let her know she had made it in safely and updated her on the progress of the case. The last update revealed Myka's piqued interest over some sort of unexpected development. Helena was genuinely glad to hear the change in her voice, and hoped it meant her wayward agent would end up enjoying her time in Seattle. She smiled when Myka hurriedly whispered "I love you," at the end of the message. _I love you, too_, Helena thought. One more message to go before she could dial Myka back.

She lifted the cup of tea to her lips as the final message began to play. The voice of Myka's partner, Pete Lattimer, filled her ear pulling the smile from her face. Helena and Pete had a tumultuous relationship at the best of times. That he would call her for any reason gave her pause. Moments later both Magnus and Tesla raised their heads at the sound of porcelain breaking against porcelain. The amber liquid in Helena's cup spread out trying to reclaim the broken pieces that once held it. She said not a word as she ran from the room, leaving her two friends to stare at one another in bewilderment.


	2. Chapter 01 - Descent

A/N: While this new tale will take us all to a very different place than the world of "Accidental Tourist", I hope you find yourself as equally engrossed in this story as we unravel the dark layers shrouding the fate of our beloved agents. At all times I welcome your comments, feedback, and questions. As those of you who interacted with me from previous stories know, I do very much take your thoughts to heart. Thank you for reading. Welcome to "In Harm's Way" (part two of "Accidental Tourist" and the third episode of "The New Beginnings" storyline).

In Harm's Way by Marcia Gaines and Sarah Murdoch-Smith

Chapter One

"Descent"

_I have to get on that flight. I know._ Helena's thoughts raced as she struggled to maintain her composure. _ I have to! You'll get there. Not soon enough! _She had been standing at the airline counter for less than fifteen minutes, but it seemed like an eternity.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Lake, there are simply no more available flights direct to Seattle today. There may be a seat on a flight tomorrow morning if you'd like me to check." The airline agent handed back the small red passport.

"Are you sure? Is it possible to get on the standby list?" She pleaded with her voice as much as with her words as she took the passport from the agent. _Good idea. I know. I hope it works. So do I. _Helena tapped the corner of the passport impatiently against the dark blue countertop.

The uniformed woman typed on her keyboard. "I can add you to the list," she said without looking up. "But, there are already quite a few people ahead of you for that last flight." She tapped the keys a few more times and then offered Helena an apologetic smile. "We had a travel interruption," she offered as explanation. "Nearly twenty people missed their connection due to a delayed arrival so we had to reseat them on the departing flight you're wanting."

_This is not happening. You're getting upset. Of course I'm getting upset! Calm down. You calm down! I'm not upset. Well you damn well should be!_ She fidgeted as the agent added her name to the standby list. "If there is any way," she said to the woman. "Any way at all, I'm willing to pay someone for their trouble if they're willing to give up their seat." Her voice trailed off as the woman looked up at her.

"Ms. Lake, I understand you want to get to the U.S. today, but there really is nothing more I can do." The finality in the woman's voice only served to stoke the panic rising inside Helena's mind. Since learning of Myka's absence she had felt the weight of what it meant to be so out of touch. She had a desperate need to be in the same city where Myka and Claudia were last seen. Just being there would make her feel better, though what she would do when she got there had not yet crossed her mind. She knew, instinctively, how much every moment could matter – and when she glanced at her watch and saw the minute hand tick forward it may as well have been a match to a fuse.

"You do not understand!" her voice suddenly rose. Heads turned in her direction as the gate agent brought her eyes up to meet the fierce tone. "It's not a matter of wanting to get on that flight, it's a matter of life and death!" Her voice choked on the phrase. "I _have_ to get on that flight. I _have_ to get to Seattle. Today!" She pounded the countertop with her fist to emphasize her point and the silence that followed seemed deafening as everyone held their breath. The tension broke only when a small curly-haired child wandered up to Helena's side and pulled on her trousers. She looked down into the smiling face of innocence. The child held up a half-eaten cookie, a silent offering to take away whatever bad thing that had made the stranger so upset. It was a gesture she knew well from the days when Christina was little more than a toddler. Helena smiled sadly at the girl just before the mother gathered up the child. The two women exchanged the brief acknowledging glance only parents can share about the good-will of children.

"Your name is Ms. Lake, yes?" The airline agent gave her a steady stare. _Now you're in for it. Bugger off._ Helena looked up and sucked in a breath knowing she had not ingratiated herself to the woman. "Yes," she lied. "Emily Lake. I'm sorry for my outburst. It's just really important. I know it's not your fault."

The woman typed on her keyboard some more, and Helena wondered if she would find herself being dragged off by security for creating a scene. She sighed heavily and rubbed at her twitching eyebrow. The stress was definitely getting to her. "Yes. Ms. Lake," the woman finally spoke again. "Gate 6."

"I'm sorry?" Helena's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I just did a check for all airlines or flights with that destination, and there is a flight waiting upon you to board. Gate 6, Ms. Lake. If you have any questions you may take it up with that gate agent." The woman called to the next person in line as her silent dismissal to the unruly passenger. Helena took the hint and walked away.

A few moments later she found herself at the designated departure gate. She showed her passport to the agent who smiled and welcomed her to the flight as she opened the door to allow her onto the tarmac. Less than a few hundred feet away was a large private jet. Two uniformed men spoke near the lowered stairwell. She quickly made her way across the tarmac and one of the men tilted his cap at her. She nodded and ascended the stairs. As she stepped inside she noted the elegance of the carpeting, woodwork, and decoration. It had to be one of Magnus' private planes.

As she made her way to a seat a man's familiar voice called out to her. "Well it's about time you decided to join me, Irene." A dark leather chair turned around and Helena found herself looking into the smiling face of Nikola Tesla. "Magnus sends her best." He looked her over quickly noting she appeared even more frazzled than she had when she suddenly departed the villa earlier that same morning. Magnus and he had little time to discuss options. "Which is why I'm here," he continued. He adjusted the cuff of his jacket before adding, "Obviously." He flashed a grin at her and she could not help but laugh.

"Oh Nikola," she said as she collapsed into the chair across from him. "What would I do without you and Magnus?"

* * *

Helena awoke with a start and pressed herself into her seat. It took her a few moments to let herself acclimate to her surroundings. She reminded herself she was on a plane and was no longer captive to her nightmare. She closed her eyes against the too-fresh images still so visible in her mind as she fought to regain control of her breathing. It had been a night from long ago, from a different life – a life she left behind her countless years ago. In her dream state she had been transported to a moment she had always remembered with the kind of fondness she could not have put into words even if she had tried.

But instead of the magical moments she remembered sharing with the woman who would turn out to be the one true mainstay of her life, she was forced to endure a horror beyond her comprehension. Helplessly frozen in place, she stood unable to do anything but watch as the one she loved was taken from her. It began as a strange flicker of light in the eyes of her love – in what should have been a beautiful azure she saw, instead, a faint orange flickering. Helena had no idea what it had meant, but she was sickeningly mesmerized. She barely had time for any of it to register when she suddenly realized she was on the Ferris wheel she remembered from many years ago. But instead of the woman who had once occupied the car with her, she found Myka by her side. And then Myka fell. Helena could do nothing to save her. She strained, pushed, pulled, and tried everything she could to move, but she was frozen to the spot. All her effort was to no avail.

She could not even scream as she watched Myka's lifeless form fall hundreds of feet into the void below. She had been equally unable to tear her eyes away from the darkness reaching up like so many gloved hands as they wrapped themselves around the beautiful woman she could no longer recognize – pulling her downward in a slow terrifying free-fall. Myka's body eventually became enveloped and Helena awaited the sickening thud of her body against metal. She recoiled in a nauseated horror at the realization of what had happened and then she suddenly found herself falling.

She was still frozen, and she was falling, falling, falling through the air. She was falling down, but not into the same void. Wherever she was going it was not to be with Myka. Instead she was headed to a different place where she was vividly alone. She knew she would fall forever never seeing another living soul, to spend all eternity lost to the world and to time. Lost. Alone. Forgotten. It was not until she felt herself beginning to let go of her sense of self as she had so many years ago that she realized this would not be like that experience. This would be nothing like that experience. For that was when Myka's mind-piercing screams of fear and agony finally reached her ears, permeating Helena's soul so severely that the jarring emotion mercifully woke her.

Helena opened her eyes and shuddered again at the images. Pain and anguish, so visceral it seemed impossible not to be real, invaded her from all sides. The raw emotions were so incredibly close she knew the entire dream had to have been metaphor for the current situation. She desperately hoped it would not also prove to be prophetic.

She checked her watch feeling a sense of relief the long trip was almost over. It could not end soon enough. The airplane's engines droned in the background as they had for hours, but she was lost in thought. She willed the dream to fade by recalling events as she knew them. She called to mind the most recent voicemails she had received and replayed them in her memory. _Why didn't I answer the phone_, she asked herself. _Because you were too busy_, she answered. She sighed and closed her eyes. Regret washed over her in large waves, leaving an all-too-familiar sense of helplessness in its wake.

She had spoken briefly with Pete before boarding her flight. His voice reverberated in her thoughts. Gone was the characteristic disdain he usually emitted when they interacted. It was replaced by something worse. Far worse. "Myka and Claudia are still missing," his voice quavered when she had called him earlier. Her mind dwelled on the strain evident in his voice while he attempted to keep a semblance of control. "I'm worried, H.G., really worried. I haven't had a vibe this bad since…" he paused a long while. "It's just bad." They spoke for only a few minutes, but it was enough to convince her she needed to return. The development Myka had mentioned turned out to be the rediscovery of Jack the Ripper's scalpel. Claudia had been the one to mention their suspicion when she called in to update Artie, and Helena could not understand why Myka had not mentioned it in her messages.

_You know why. Do I? Yes. Enlighten me. You know you would have dropped everything to pursue it with her. I don't think so. Really? _Helena considered whether she would have stayed in Naples or if she would have allowed Myka to chase after one of the most dangerous artifacts in Warehouse history alone_. Okay, yes, I would have dropped everything. Then you understand. I don't understand. Yes, you do._ She sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her long dark hair in frustration. _Fine, yes, I know why she didn't tell me. And? And I know she did it out of love. Yes. She shouldn't have. Wouldn't you? That is not the point! Isn't it? _

Helena's brow furrowed as she thought back to the one time she had seen the scalpel in person. She could still recall the object in vivid detail. She knew Myka could, too, and she continued to struggle with the reason Myka had not said anything to her. _Would it have mattered? Of course it would have mattered! How, you never answered the phone?!_ Helena winced. It was true. Even if Myka had mentioned it, she would never have known about the scalpel until she picked up her voicemails. She berated herself, once again, for letting herself be so engrossed in her project. _I should have taken her calls. Yes, but you could not have known. It's my fault she's missing. Is it? Yes! You couldn't have stopped her. I could have gone with her. Then you'd both be missing. We'd be together. Point taken._ She tried to push her thoughts to the side, but more than a hundred years of being left to nothing but her own thoughts made it impossible to do anything other than let the argument rage in her mind.

_This feels all too familiar. I know. I don't like it. You think I do?_ Helena's heart skipped a beat as she thought back to the day she learned the fate of the first woman she had ever loved – the only woman she had ever loved. _It's Emma all over again. You don't know that. It feels the same. It isn't the same. It feels just like it did back then. _A single tear formed in the corner of her eye, growing with each passing thought._ This isn't Emma. Myka _was_ Emma. Not then she wasn't. I didn't know that then. You know it now. Emma died. That isn't going to happen here. You don't know that. I do. How? You aren't repeating the same mistake. Haven't I already?_ She blinked and the tear fell to her cheek leaving a slow trail across her pale complexion. She wiped it away and took in a deep breath holding it longer than usual before letting it go in a slow exhale. _I should have gone after Emma. You could not have known. She would have lived if I had. It wasn't your fault. This is. No it isn't! I should have answered the phone. _

She let the argument stew in the back of her mind as she turned her thoughts to other considerations. She knew she would never get anywhere arguing with herself. Whether she liked it or not there were similarities between that painful event from her past and the one she now faced. She felt weighed down. The circumstances were different but she could not shake the feeling the result could very well be the same; she struggled to wrap her mind around everything that was happening. All those years ago she had been so lost in her own emotion it never once occurred to her Emma might have been in danger. She let too much time pass, and the woman was lost to her. And now with Myka missing, she could not help but draw the eerie parallels. Once again, her inattention could very well lead to the loss of the woman she loved. She balled her fists at the thought and she swallowed back the self-loathing and the rising rage. She knew she could not allow herself to be swept away by her emotion. Nothing good ever came of that.

All that mattered was that Myka was missing. So was Claudia. What the two women needed most was for her to fully engage – not to let herself be divided in her thoughts and motives. If she were going to be of any assistance it would not come from the uncontrolled emotional responses to which she was so prone. Instead, she would have to master her feelings. She knew she would have to do that no matter how difficult it might become. She had no choice. Lives could depend upon it. _No_, she thought. _Lives _do_ depend upon it._ She corrected herself knowing she could not afford to think the worst. As the plane touched down she resolved to focus entirely upon securing Myka's and Claudia's return. She would not be distracted by anything – not even her own mind.


	3. Chapter 02 - Arrival

In Harm's Way by Gaines/Murdoch-Smith

Chapter Two

"Arrival"

"Why do people live in weather like this?" Nikola Tesla complained about the bitterly cold drizzle as he walked out of the airport. He moved toward the curb as Helena paused.

"I don't know," she said as she looked around. "I kind of like it." And she did. She found something quiet and comforting about the way the damp air seemed to embrace her, giving way as she walked, allowing her to revel in the sensation of the miniscule water droplets breaking against her skin.

"You would," he retorted. "It's just like England." His tone of voice indicated he did not share her love for her native land.

She smiled at his statement. While she had grown up in England, he had only been there for his time at Oxford, and the only thing he seemed to appreciate about the country were the friends he made. "There are worse places," she said with a smile.

"Yes, I know. I've been to South Dakota, too." He did not look at her as he answered, but instead flagged down a taxi.

It did not take long for the taxi to pull up next to them. They settled into the vehicle as the cab driver placed their bags in the trunk before climbing behind the wheel again. He looked into the rearview mirror to address them both. "Where to?" He looked first to Tesla and then to Helena, but neither responded. It was the first time Helena realized she had no idea where she was supposed to go, nor what she was supposed to do. She pulled out her phone and dialed Pete. When he did not answer, she called Artie. A few minutes of conversation let her know Pete was mid-route to the city, as well. Artie gave her an address and told her he would notify Pete of her arrival and where to meet her. She gave the hotel name to the driver and he switched on the meter as he pulled away from the curb.

"The Moore Hotel?" Tesla gave her a questioning look.

"It's where Pete is – we're going to meet up with him." She sat back feeling a little less unsettled knowing they had a starting place. Where they would go from there, however, was anybody's guess. They spoke little during the short drive, and when they pulled up in front of the hotel, Helena looked out through the window and gasped.

"What is it?" Tesla heard the sharp intake of breath and looked around for whatever might have prompted it.

"So much has changed," she said and opened the door as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She stood staring out over the busy street.

"You've been here before?" He looked at her with interest trying to recall if she had ever mentioned it.

"Once," she said in a far away voice. "Many years ago." She stood looking at the buildings before them. In an instant she was transported back in time. She could still see it the way it once had been, back when automobiles were still a novelty and were more rare to see on the cobbled streets than horse-drawn carriages. It had been just before the end of the year 1907, though she had been in the city since mid-Autumn. She looked down at the ground beneath her feet and then to the street in front of her. No, it was not the same sidewalk, as far as she could determine – a quick mental calculation let her know she was standing at least some twenty feet higher, if not more, than she should have been. _Interesting_, she thought. _But, yes, it makes sense._ Her mind wandered until she could see the trenches and their accompanying ladders used by pedestrians making their cumbersome way between street-level and store entrances. Great torrents of sluiced dirt would occasionally rush down the street – held in on all sides by the large cement partitions guiding the watery mud into the bay. But despite the massive construction efforts there had been a general feeling of accomplishment amongst the city-dwellers that year.

"Welcome to our truly magical year, Ms. Wells," she could still hear the deep alto voice of the woman whom she had befriended while pursuing her case. Helena could still recall every detail of her handsome face. _We would have been a good match. You weren't ready for that. Maybe not. Definitely not._ Lee Sheng was an attractive woman in her early forties with hair and eyes as dark, if not darker, than her own. Her cherubic face and delicate Asian features gave her the appearance of someone much younger, however, but it was her quick wit and sharp tongue that Helena liked most. She remembered how errantly she thought a language barrier might prevent them from becoming friends at all, so it was a very welcome discovery to find Lee was as much a master of the language as she was of her own profession. Helena recalled how confused she was that such a small city would employ so many seamstresses, and the delight Lee took in how long it was before Helena understood the euphemism. She nearly laughed at the memory. It seemed impossible to think she had ever been so naïve.

"And just what has made this such a banner year, Lee?" Helena asked the question to her as they walked toward the public market. The two women had established an immediate rapport, and for months spent nearly every evening walking near and along the waterfront. The routine they established was her favorite memory of the months she spent in the city. That was before everything changed. _She died too young. Doesn't everyone? Some moreso than others. _Helena sighed with regret wondering at all the "what if" scenarios that played out in her mind. If she could have only known where things were to lead after their first walk together, she might have been able to make a bigger difference.

"This is the year we go from being a frontier town to a real city," came the reply. "You mark my words." The dark intelligent eyes shone with pride and admiration. She clearly felt a connection to the well-being of the city, and it showed in every moment of the initial tour she had given Helena.

It had been a truly interesting one, as she recalled it. Though it had been difficult making their way around due to the regrade project, they had managed to visit the harbor, King's Street Station, the newly founded farmer's market on Pike's street, as well as Pioneer Square Park – where Helena stood in awe at the base of the sixty-foot totem. _I wonder if it's still there. Doesn't matter. It would be nice to see. Another time. _She shook her head to free herself from the memory. She would not allow her typical flights of fancy, nor her curiosity, to obscure her purpose. She turned to Tesla as she regained her thoughts. "Looks like this is our stop," she said with a slight nod toward the hotel.

"Mm," he said as he paid the taxi driver. "Stay with the luggage, I'll get a bellhop," he said.

"We have one bag each, Nikola, I think we can handle it." She picked up their bags and walked toward him shoving his small duffel into his midsection.

"Where's the fun in that?" He looked mildly annoyed as he shifted his weight. "Half the fun in staying at a hotel is getting everyone to do the menial tasks!"

Helena spun on her heels. "Need I remind you we are not here on holiday?" Though her volume was softer than her tone, the look in her eyes as she reprimanded him was more than ominous. Nikola swallowed back the jest he had been prepared to make. He knew she was an emotional wreck, and he did not want to push her over the edge.

"You're right," he acquiesced. "I'm sorry." He transferred his bag to his left hand and held his right hand aloft toward the front entrance. He waited for her to walk ahead of him. "Shall we?"

Helena rolled her eyes and swept past him. She strode through the front door without another word coming to a stop at the far end of the lobby. She set her bag down and sat in one of the small couches as she reached for her phone. She dialed the number and a moment later began speaking. "Hello, Pete. Yes, I'm here." There was a brief pause and she checked her watch. "Yes, that's fine. See you in a few minutes."


	4. Chapter 03 - Harbinger

In Harm's Way by Gaines/Murdoch-Smith

Chapter Three

"Harbinger"

"H.G.," it was not much of a greeting, but it was the best Pete Lattimer was able to manage under the circumstances. He nodded at her before addressing her comrade. It came out equally as terse. "Tesla." He hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and shifted his weight as he looked around. "Checked in yet?"

Helena looked thoughtfully at him wondering if the succinct manner of speech was part of what made up the drawn look upon his face, or if it had to do with the poor relationship they shared. _He looks tired. He looks exhausted. Yes, well, we all are._ "Not yet. So you're just now arriving, then?"

He nodded silently as he perused the small lobby. It seemed non-descript to him with its ultra-modern décor, but he was not a fan of such things and he did not look around for long. To Helena, however, everything about the décor reminded her of just how much time had gone by whilst she had been voluntary imprisoned in the Warehouse. She might never have thought of the city again if not for the current situation. It stirred uncomfortable memories. _ You didn't do it. I didn't stop it. You didn't know. _Too late she had come to realize the fatal mistakes and ignored truths that only caused more suffering. The weight of it went unfelt at the time, so single-minded had she been back then. _Zeitgeist ortgeist. Time and place. _She blinked twice forcing back the memories in order to take in Pete's newly directed gaze. His raised eyebrows pointed her to the front desk and she took his meaning. They needed to follow him. Few words were spoken with the desk clerk – only as much as were needed, and within minutes they had all secured their rooms as well as a key to Myka's and Claudia's room, thanks to Pete's Secret Service badge.

As they approached the elevator Pete addressed them. "This is the same hotel where they were staying. Room 338." He pushed the elevator's call button. "I figured we might as well stay here, too." Helena looked down at the paper jacket holding her room key. The number 339 stared back at her. She would be across the hall from where they had been. The thought felt like a punch in the stomach. _You'll find them. What if it's too late? It won't be. _She sighed and turned her head as the elevator doors opened. They quickly boarded the large ornate car and Pete pressed the button for their floor. They rode in silence until the bell dinged and the doors opened again. Neither Pete nor Helena noticed Tesla staring into the back of the elevator car's mirror to adjust his tie and smooth his hair. When the bell dinged he turned around to exit with them. They walked single file to their respective doors. "Meet at their room," Pete said. "Number 338, in about five minutes." Helena nodded at him and watched him disappear into his own room before inserting the key into her own door's lock.

As unprepared as she had been for the differences in the city, she felt even moreso for the changes to the hotel room's décor. It was difficult for her mind not to try to replace all the modern accouterments with the standards of her day. She walked around the large spacious layout just as she had so many years ago. Only in a few places did any of the original architecture still seem to exist – she gingerly ran her hands along one of the inner archway's walls remembering how the brick had once spanned the entire wall rather than just a few key points. It looked more like decorative afterthought than the safety measure the city had instituted when she first saw it. _Looks like it worked. Clearly._ She patted the brick as she passed into the bedroom to place her bag upon the bed, and smiled when she spied a familiar sight in the bathroom. The vintage claw-foot bathtub was a welcome sight and she looked forward to a nice long bath at some point. She was tired and sore from the tension she carried in her shoulders, but she knew there was too much to do to even think about such luxuries any time soon.

She dropped her bag and walked back through the suite to the front door. She stepped through into the hallway and waited a few moments for Pete and Tesla to join her. "Ready?" Pete nodded and took out the key to Myka's room. As he inserted it, Tesla turned to her.

"What exactly do we think we're going to find in here?"

Helena looked at him briefly. "No idea, but we're about to find out."

"It's a starting point," Pete said gruffly as he opened the room. They stepped through the doorway and looked around the neat and tidy surroundings. "Damn," Pete muttered under his breath. "The room's been cleaned." Despite knowing it had been more than a day since their disappearance, Pete had hoped the room might not have yet been cleaned. "Well, we might still be able to find something."

Helena took in the immaculate living space. The room had the same layout, in reverse, of her own room. Nothing seemed out of order, but she could not shake the feeling that everything felt wrong. The three colleagues spread out to investigate in different rooms. Pete made his way to the living room, Tesla the kitchen, and Helena walked toward the bedroom. Only Tesla was able to examine the surroundings without a darkened sense of eeriness overshadowing his every movement. He opened drawers and cabinets noting the way every item seemed to be in its proper place. He briefly raised an eyebrow when he realized all the non-perishables in the cabinets seemed to be in alphabetical order within categories – and that all their labels faced the same direction. "And I thought I was obsessive," he said to himself.

Pete looked up from across the expanse between them. "What?" He heard the voice, but could not make out Tesla's words.

"Oh, nothing," Tesla replied turning toward him. "I was just commenting on how orderly everything seems to be."

"Yeah," Pete agreed. "It's a bit overly OCD, that's for sure." He had perused the living room and found absolutely nothing of value. Not even the magazines layed out in perfect order on the coffee table appeared to have ever been moved. The entire room looked like it was ready for a photographer's camera. It was as if neither Claudia nor Myka had ever been there. "Let's see if H.G. found anything." When they walked through the bedroom door they observed Helena standing with one hand on her hip and the other resting atop her head – her fingers curled into her own hair as if she had swept her hair out of her face and forgotten to let go. She held her bottom lip between her teeth and squinted slightly into the room. "Any ideas?" Pete shook her from her thoughts and she turned to him.

"Many," she said quietly as she dropped her hand and turned to face them. "How about you, two? Find anything out there?" She looked between them both.

"Nothing," Pete said. "It's like they were never here." He turned toward the side of the room and walked near the bed pulling back the comforter to reveal the sheets. "I bet you could bounce a quarter off that."

"Stellar maid service," observed Tesla. "Remind me to recommend them to Magnus." He ran his finger across the lip of the bureau near where he stood and checked for dust. He found almost none.

Helena ignored him as she commented. "Pete," it came out as a near question. "Does anything about this not make sense to you?" She looked into his face knowing his troubled expression matched her own.

"You mean besides the creepy _Sleeping With the Enemy_ vibe I got in there?" He frowned and looked around the room. It was just as overly tidy as the rest of the suite had been.

"Right," she said slowly. "I don't know what that means, but…" she turned to Tesla. "Nikola, was your room quite as orderly as this one?"

He answered quickly. "Not even close. I was going to ask if I could swap rooms." Pete and Helena both glared at him and he quickly added, "but then I realized I could just make a request at the front desk for whichever maid was in here."

"And you?" She addressed Pete who was more than glad for the question. Another moment and he might have ripped into Tesla for his callousness.

"Yeah, no," he said. "My room isn't messy or anything, but it's nowhere near this level of clean."

"Same for me," she said. "I know Myka, and she's clean, but she's not _this_ clean." She opened the bureau and pointed at the color-coordinated layout of the clothing and the even-spaces between the hangers before pointing to the lowest shelf. "And I sincerely doubt Claudia would have taken the time to ensure her shoelaces were all neatly tucked into her shoes."

"What?" Pete looked into the bureau from across the room. He noted the extreme formality with which the items in the bureau were displayed and did not like the feeling it gave him. Before she had a chance to answer him his Farnsworth rang. The conversation paused as he reached for it and opened the case. Moments later he looked up with confusion.

Helena met his gaze "What's wrong?" The sound of the Farnsworth's continued blare pulled his eyes back to the small box in his hands. The light was still dark and there was no image on the viewing screen. He closed the case and reopened it. The blaring continued.

"I don't know," he said. "It won't answer the call." He banged his hand against the side of the case, but the noise continued.

Tesla rolled his eyes. "Hey genius," he called out. Pete looked up and saw Tesla pointing toward the bottom of the bed near his foot. "It's not coming from yours. Check under the bed."

Pete ducked down and the other two heard a muffled "Weird," from him before he stood back up holding a second Farnsworth. He stuffed his own into his back pocket before turning the second one over in his hands. "This must be Claudia's," he said. "But why would she leave it here?" He held it up to them. "And what's this thing?"

"Clever girl." Helena smiled and walked toward him taking the device from his hands. "It's definitely Claudia's." She pointed the side of the case toward him and indicated a small adaptor plugged into a port. "And this, gentlemen, is going to show us something we clearly need to see."

"What do you mean?" Pete looked confused.

She quickly turned a knob on the side of the adaptor and a light emanated from both of its ends. "Oooh," Tesla said, suddenly intrigued. "Now, we're talking." He stepped toward them both and watched as Helena's deft fingers quickly moved various nobs until the Farnsworth's screen lit up.

"Okay, what is that," Pete asked. "And how do you know what it is?"

"It's a recording device," she said. "And I know what it is because I built it – in 1893. I've been helping Claudia to adapt it. We finished this prototype very recently." She knew the second she saw it in Pete's hands what it meant. "We're about to play back the last recording it made," she said. "And the proximity alert tells me Claudia left this here on purpose."

"Yes, that makes sense," said an intrigued Tesla.

"What makes sense?" Pete was no clearer than he had been.

"The frequency interrogation." When the answer failed to enlighten Pete, he continued with a sigh. "Yes, sorry, forgot who I was talking to for a moment. Anyway," he waved a finger between Pete and Helena. "The variable frequencies of these particular devices would have clashed – forcing the one with the weakest signal," Tesla pointed at Pete as he spoke. "That would be yours, obviously, to act as a trigger and placing the stronger one," he pointed at Helena. "To act as a transponder. Thus the beeping when the two devices were in close enough proximity."

"So," Pete looked at him as he let the words roll through his mind. "You're saying Claudia left that under the bed. She knew we would be coming here? I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"Does seem a bit ominous," Tesla agreed.

"Yes," Helena added her thoughts to the mix. "In point of fact," she adjusted a knob on the device and watched as an image came into focus. "I think we're about to see the next best thing to video-surveillance footage." She looked up at both Pete and Tesla, and her tone grew dark. "If I'm correct," she paused briefly. "I'd say they were abducted."

The three pairs of eyes all fell to the Farnsworth's now active display. On it they could see a single face filling almost the entirety of the screen. It was Claudia's. But that was not what captured their attention. What they all focused upon was the slightly out of focus image behind Claudia – the one showing two people, a man and a woman. They could not make out the face of the man because it was hidden behind Myka's body. She had her back to him and stood in an awkward pose. It was clear to everyone, not just by the shape of the small object in the image, but also from the small gleam reflecting from it's surface, that she was being held at knifepoint.


End file.
